


Do As I Say and I Will Be Your Slave

by PropertyOfThaJoker



Category: Labyrinth (1986), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Labyrinth - Freeform, Labyrinth References, One Shot, Reylo - Freeform, Smut, dub-con, labyrinth-au, lusty kylo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:47:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6961273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PropertyOfThaJoker/pseuds/PropertyOfThaJoker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You cowered before me; I was frightening.” She shivers at the feel of his hands gently pulling her arms down from her chest, his own leather-clad hands exploring the covered, soft flesh there. “I have restored justice from the Republic, I have turned the galaxy upside down,” he mutters, their eyes still locked onto the other’s. His lips meet hers like for a wisp of time, barely touching. “I’ve done it all for you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do As I Say and I Will Be Your Slave

**Author's Note:**

> I saw on AquaWolfGirl's Tumblr that an Anon wanted a Labyrinth-au with Kylo and Rey. Well, Anon, here you go. :) 
> 
> I think that this might be dub-con, maybe...? Not sure, since I've never written dub-con and the supposed 'dub-con' that I've read I have trouble finding the 'dub' part (please don't berate me for that). 
> 
> Please leave feedback as I'd like to know if I'm actually good at this type of thing.

“What’s it like, being trapped by someone that you consider a monster?”   
  
She takes no time to reply: “It’s worse than it sounds, if you can imagine it.”  
  
For such a question, it’s a calm response, much calmer than any response she’s ever given him. Hell, it’s calmer than anything she’s ever said to him.   
  
“I don’t think I’m a monster,” he says as he runs his finger over his desk, as if there’s dust there, but there isn’t any dust in this immaculate space. “I’ve given you… _everything_.”  
  
“Giving me everything materially cannot amount to the value of my freedom!” Her voice is back, the voice she’s used on him so many times before.   
  
“You are the one that got yourself into this mess, not me; I didn’t drag you here.” He’s right, and it burns – burns like hot coals on thin skin.   
  
“Then let me leave!” she begs, her eyes as large as two moons.   
  
“I’m afraid, Rey,” he pauses, strictly for dramatics, “that I cannot do that. Rules are rules.” He looks at her, garbed in a gorgeous gown, though casual. She’s the queen that the Imperial Labyrinth has begged him for, searched for. “You fit the role so well, though, and I know – no, I _feel_ – that you know that.”   
  
Again, he looks her over, the dress low cut, but not so much that she’s pulling it up. Her hair, long, loose brown waves falling down over her breasts, her eyes piercing through him like his lightsaber had pierced through so many bodies. “I ask for so little,” he whispers, slowly walking toward where she stands, ready to push her down to the fur rug in front of the fireplace in his library and make her his. But he won’t do that, no; he’s not _that_ kind of monster. She will come to him and they will make the other their own.   
  
“You ask for _everything_ ,” she whispers back, her lips in a thin line immediately after. Why does their bickering make him lust for her more? Why does it make him want to love her more?   
  
“You fear me, yet you do not love me.” He stands tall, now right in front of her, glaring down at her like she is something delicate, yet at the same time, his eyes convey a want.   
  
“Fear and love are no where near the same thing!” She stares back up at him, arms crossed over her small breasts, only pushing them up for his gaze. But they’re hers and they’re **_perfect._**   
  
“Do as I say,” he mutters as he kisses the top of her head, his lips lingering there. His thumb slowly slides down her cheek and it’s enough to make her quiver, their banter always a confusing thing to her, making her hate him more, want him more. He pushes her chin up with that thumb, making her look into his eyes. “Do as I say,” he repeats, “and I will be your slave.”   
  
“What if I don’t want a slave?” she asks, wonders what his next move might be.   
  
“Just let me rule you,” he says as his head bows to her neck, lips ghosting across her olive skin. “Everything you have wanted, I have done.” He bites, gently, and he smirks at the moan that escapes her lips. “You asked that your troubles be taken away, and I took them.”  
  
She’s silent. In this moment, she doesn’t know how to form words, how to let them escape her lips.   
  
“You cowered before me; I was frightening.” She shivers at the feel of his hands gently pulling her arms down from her chest, his own leather-clad hands exploring the covered, soft flesh there. “I have restored justice from the Republic, I have turned the galaxy upside down,” he mutters, their eyes still locked onto the other’s. His lips meet hers like for a wisp of time, barely touching. “I’ve done it all for you.”   
  
“It’s not fair,” she explains softly, still looking at him, wondering if they’ll ever part from where they are in this moment. Does she want to even be apart from him? Can he feel that? **Yes**.   
  
“Nothing is fair.” He’s kissing her neck again, teasing her, caressing her breasts still, that warmth she’s been feeling, now more than ever pooling in the pit of her stomach.   
  
“You have no power over me.”   
  
He stops, her words only gasoline to his already growing flame, the flame atop the torch he has carried in his long search for her, the search that led her to him. The girl, the woman that had haunted his dreams for years before their first meeting now stood in front of him, holding everything he needed: **love.**   
  
“Rey,” he pauses, the pause lasting only a moment, feeling like an eternity, “we both know that is a lie.” His hands run slowly down her sides, the shiver increasing. “You have power over me, can you not tell?” He rashly pulls her to his body, flush.

She feels it, the power she has over him, the clothed physical manifestation of her power pressed against her covered abdomen. She could lie, tell him that she doesn’t want him, but-   
  
“Just let me rule you, and you can have everything,” he says, holding her tighter, her breath short in anticipation, “ _everything_ that you want.”   
  
**_Want_**. What a word. She wants a great deal right now, a great deal of contradicting things. She wants his body, but she wants to be far away from him, to never see him again. But does she, really? She’s a grown woman now, she has desires that she alone cannot fulfill. The man from her visions of years gone by now holds her own body tightly against his, the visions now a reality, and it makes her sick in the sweetest way.   
  
She feels, watches him sink down, hands moving down her back, over her excellently curved behind, hands then resting on the back of her thighs, desperate to feel the skin; leather gloves and a gossamer dress lay between them. “Everything.” His lips meet her clothed, flat stomach.   
  
“Everything?” she asks. He stops looking back up into those hazel eyes that remind him of moss.   
  
“ _Everything_ ,” he replies softly. Suddenly, this feels different to both of them. “Tell me, Rey… what do you think of me right now? Am I still the monster?” She can feel his hot breath on her stomach through the dress. It’s intoxicating.   
  
“No.” Her reply makes him wickedly smile in victory.   
  
“Then what am I?” The chills that traveled her body now travel his own as she runs her fingers through his thick, black locks.   
  
“ ** _My slave_**.” He pulls her down onto that fur rug, her body under his. The face of her will-be lover is level with her own, the other admiring the sight before them.   
  
“ ** _My queen_**!” She mewls at his lips on her own, devouring her aura, asking for entry as she gladly turns over the keys. Her body jolts when she feels his hands – no gloves – reaching underneath the neckline of her gown, and she doesn’t care in the best way. He murmurs promises that sounds like beautifully constructed music: “ _Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you_.” The hum that rings throughout her body is a note of ecstasy that she didn’t know existed.   
  
Sometime later, he looks down at her sleeping form, comfortably resting in _his_ bed. His queen, his lover, his everything is at last _his_.   
  
He recalls the sounds that left her lips, the gentleness he’d taken with her, knowing that he was her first lover, would be her only lover, and she would now be his only.   
  
He had no need for want any longer. 

He recalls his mouth on her center, watching her writhe in desire for a release she had never experienced, a release that he, and only he would ever give her.   
  
He recalls how slick she was as he entered her, how slowly he had gone, how she said she’d felt ‘full’, and he promised her this feeling of completion for eternity, forever.   
  
He feels pride, but most of all, _he feels owned_ , and **he loves it.  
  
** As he lays his head on the pillow next to her, mesmerized by the glow that the moonlight casts over her face, he whispers: **“How you turn my world, you precious thing.”**

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments (good and bad)... I cannot wait to read them and reply! :)


End file.
